


Here and Now

by Tainted_Kattitina



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: (Only wingfic in chapter four), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-05-25 02:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14967245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tainted_Kattitina/pseuds/Tainted_Kattitina
Summary: A series of unconnected drabbles centered on Shay/Haytham.





	1. Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> I have not abandoned SoGF. But after a night in the hospital I was inspired because of the AC discord server I am on. So now I am writing the occasional discord prompt while working on SoGF.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They bring each other such pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what prompts and suggestions get you. Implied sexy times.

Shay gripped Haytham's thighs tight, loving the feel of his Grand Master perched above him, their clothed groins rubbing together with every little movements.

Not that the movements were little. Haytham, for all his proper behavior, was insatiable.

They broke apart with a gasp, mouths connected with a string of saliva. And then broken as Haytham pulled further away from Shay, gray eyes assessing his younger lover. Haytham moved back a couple inches to give Shay the most glorious of sensations.

Shay gasped in pleasure. 

"You're wearing too much clothing, Shay." Haytham emphasized his words with a roll of his hips even as he dragged his hands down the front of Shay's uniform.

Shay surged up, covering Haytham's lips with his own, biting and licking his way inside - still gloved hands moving from thigh to ass, kneading the barely covered flesh. 

"Actually, Sir," Shay said as he pulled back with a grin, "I think you're the one in too much clothing." Shay slipped his hands under the last article of Haytham's clothing and traced the entrance hidden from view.


	2. Pledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old lovers reunite and pledge their love again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because geral-lenix(tumbr)/Glacier_Llane(Ao3) said (and I quote) "lately my thoughts have been occupied with Haytham saying "I'm yours, Shay""  
> No Archive Warnings Apply.

They are older men now. Haytham's hair has gone completely gray, while pale strands turn Shay's once dark locks salt-and-pepper. Time and stress have made gouges in Haytham's face while wind and sun have turned Shay's skin to leather. And yet to Haytham, Shay is as beautiful as ever.

Here, so close to the end, Haytham wants nothing more but to return to those blissful years chasing assassins on the _Morrigan_. To those nights when Shay took him apart inch by inch.

"Grand Master," Shay says slowly as he steps into Haytham's study at Fort George.

"Captain Cormac, I'm pleased to see you alive and well." Haytham says though what he wants to do is kneel at his once lover's feet and bring him to completion.

"Aye, you too, sir." He stands so far away.

"Is something the matter, Shay?" Haytham asks, moving closer in hope.

Shay stays where he is, not shying away from Haytham's approach. "Just wasn't sure how welcomed I'd be on account of..." he trails off.

"On account of what?" Haytham is now within arms reach of Shay.

"On account of the young assassin Charles says you're obsessed with." Shay says, breaking eye contact to look at the wall.

Haytham cannot stop the laugh that bubbles forth from his lips, feeling his cheeks rise in a smile. "Shay, that assassin is my son. If I seem occupied by him it is only in hope he will see the flaws in his creed." Haytham captures one of Shay's hands and draws it close to his lips.

"If you'll still have me, I'm yours, Shay." Haytham pledges, kissing the back of Shay's fingers under Shay's careful and caring gaze.

 


	3. Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shay and Haytham play a game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by me losing at checkers in Rogue, and talking about how Haytham seems like he would always win, and the fact that it is summer.  
> Implied Sexy Times

Shay is losing at English Droughts, again. The heat of summer has settled upon New York like a thick wool blanket, and even with every window and door thrown open not a breeze stirs the humid air. Though it is just passed midday Shay wants nothing more than to divest himself of his heavy clothing and lie upon his linen sheets. Instead, he is fully dressed playing board games with his Grand Master. Losing. Badly.

“You seem distracted, Shay.” Haytham says as he clears the board of the last white pieces again. “Is something troubling you?”

Shay shakes his head. “It is nothing, Grand Master.”

Haytham does not seem at all bothered by the heat and the humidity, still completely dressed including his double layered cloak. He takes only a small sip of his water and resets the game board, this time with Shay going second.

Shay wishes he was as unaffected. He spent his childhood sailing along the coast and West Indies in all seasons, it shouldn’t bother him. But everything is different on a ship, where he might jump into the sea when there is no breeze to push them along. For a moment Shay considers suggesting they head to the pier instead, where there might be the faintest trace of a breeze from the rolling waves. That perhaps a dip in the drink might cool them off.

“Really, Shay, are you feeling alright?” Haytham asks, peering at Shay in concern. Haytham has already made his first move, has likely been waiting on Shay to stop day dreaming.

Shay feels a blush creeping up his neck and over his cheeks in embarrassment. “Of course sir.” Shay says as he makes his first move.

Haytham is still scrutinizing Shay. “Are you certain, Shay?”

Instead of making his next move Haytham stands and places a hand on Shay’s forehead. Shay tries to protest but Haytham ignores him, dragging Shay up by the arm and through Shay’s quarters to the bedroom, where he shoves Shay into the bed.

“Your much too warm, Shay, I worry you might have a fever.” Haytham says, working at Shay’s buckles and buttons. “Best get you to bed and call for a doctor.”

Shay barely protests Haytham’s quick and rough handling of him, too shocked at how forward Haytham is being. It isn’t until his jacket and waistcoat are gone, and Haytham is kneeling between Shay’s spread legs to remove Shay’s boots that Shay’s brain catches up.

His brain and his loins.

“Sir!” Shay shouts to get Haytham’s attention. But that, Haytham gazing up from between Shay’s knees, is a dream come true. “I’m not sick, sir. Just flattered.”

Haytham drops his gaze, and seeing the bulge in Shay’s breeches, raises it. Instead of a look of disgust or hatred, there is only a sly smirk as Haytham puts one hand on the inside of Shay’s thigh close to his groin.

“Purhaps there is no need for a doctor, but we should still get you out of these clothes.”

Shay can only nod in agreement.


	4. Preen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wing!Fic Haytham and Shay spend sometime grooming each other and sharing stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Archive Warnings Apply

The soft glow if candlelight makes Haytham's wings gleam with a golden hue as Shay kneels behind his Grand Master, softly dragging his fingers through the feathers.

It's quiet in the cabin, though they can hear the men outside. Haytham is stripped down to his waist, half laying on the bed, head resting on folded arms, half kneeling, with his wings spread across the sheets. Even like that they are still half furled, unable to fully expand to their full length.

"Your wings are beautiful, sir." Shay finds himself saying before he can think better of it.

Haytham gives a small huff of laughter before speaking, his voice warm and pleasant. "Thank you, Shay. I'm glad you appreciate them."

"If you don't mind me asking, sir, how far have you flown?" Shay asks as he pulls a loose and crooked feather out, adding it to the pile off to the side.

"Hmm, about two hundred yards I'd say."

"Two hundred yards?" Shay asks, surprised.

Everyone has wings, but since so few are capable of flight very few fly more than twenty to thirty yards even if they are capable of more.

"Indeed. I was in pursuit of a man I believed to be partially responsible for my Father's death."

"Did you catch the man?" Shay dug his fingers in between Haytham's dark feathers once more.

"Indeed, though I was unable to question him." Haytham flexed his wings, dislodging Shay's hands. "I think that's enough for now. Come, I'll do the same for you." Haytham says, standing up and motioning for Shay to take his vacated spot.

"Sir?" Shay asks, still kneeling.

"'Tis only fair I return the favor." Shay nods meekly, removing his tops and moving closer to the bed.

"I should warn you sir, my right wing is a little sensitive."

"Oh?" Haytham asks. Shay hears Haytham settle behind him even as he hides his face in his arms.

A warm dry hand touches Shay's bare back right between the wings, fingers spread to cover more skin. Shay feels himself tense at the contact, and forces himself to relax. "I haven't let anyone touch it since before Lisbon."

"But that was years ago Shay!" Haytham exclaims, likely astonished Shay'd go so long without preening.

Those with smaller wings could go two or three months between preenings. But for those like Haytham and Shay, with wings as large or larger than themselves, preenings were needed every week or so.

"Aye."

"But, if you haven't allowed anyone to touch it since before Lisbon, then that means . . ."

"Aye. I'd been half mad with a fever, but aware enough that none of the sailors could set and bind my breaks before they started to heal wrong." Shay says, sadly.

Plenty of folks were flightless by circumstances of birth, but Shay had once been capable of great flight. He could've flown a hundred yards at least. Used to drive Liam crazy when Shay would climb up something only to jump off and soar away, leaving Liam behind. None of the Assassins had wings even close to Shay's size.

Haytham's other hand came up to rest on Shay's right wing, not yet combing through it. "If you don't mind me asking, Shay, why didn't you fly away from Lisbon? You have the wing span for it."

"Didn't even think about it, sir. Assassins aren't supposed to use their wings, that could cause them to be noticed." Shay hears Haytham snort in disbelief, but is distracted by the fingers moving over and between his feathers. It's a pleasure and pain and an intimacy he's been missing. Shay cannot stop the cry that escapes his lips or the flexing of his wings.

Immediately Haytham's hand retreats.

"Did I hurt you Shay?" He asks, kind and considerate.

"No sir, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I don't wish to cause you harm."

"Aye sir, I'm sure." Shay responds.

"Alright, let me know if you need me to stop." Haytham says. His hand returns, and Shay shivers before relaxing into the sensation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two things in one day!! What kind of madness is this? Also, you don't want to know what inspired it.


	5. Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haytham and Shay play Redcoats and Gang Members.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rape role play scene. There is some internal thoughts (this) that are meant to show that Shay, the POV, knows who the "Redcoat" is. It's implied that there was discussion of scene before hand but we don't see that.  
> IF YOU THINK THIS ISN'T FOR YOU THAT IS OKAY.  
> If you think "I might be able to handle it," shoot me a message. Your mental heath is important.  
> Sexier than usual but not overly sexy.

“This doesn’t have to be difficult.”  The Redcoat whispers in Shay’s ear, gripping Shay’s bound arms tight.  He rolls his hips, pressing his hard length against Shay’s backside.  “Just give me what I want and you’ll be free to go.”

(To think a little talking and a change of clothes could get him so worked up!)

“Go to hell!”  Shay snarls, kicking backwards.

It doesn’t connect.  Shay throws his head back, hoping to break the man’s nose but he’s too quick, pushing Shay over an extended foot and sending him sprawling on the ground.  With his arms trapped behind him as they are all Shay can do is twist to prevent his face from slamming into the floor. 

(Just as they’d done before while sparring.)

A kick roll’s Shay over onto his back, the Redcoat kneeling between Shay’s spread legs, one hand gripping Shay’s throat.  It’s uncomfortable, resting on his bound arms, back arched and hips raised.  There is a gleam in the Redcoat’s eyes, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Well, now you’ve made things difficult for yourself.”  There’s a teasing note in his voice.  The Redcoat is enjoying this little game of his.  The hand not around Shay’s throat moves down, undoing Shay’s belt. 

“You’re a sick piece of shit.”  Shay says between ground teeth, helpless to do anything.  The Redcoat is too close for Shay to kick, not that it did anything last time, and with his hands bound there is nothing Shay can do.

“Am I now?”  Shay’s belt is undone, the hand going lower until it brushes against the bulge in Shay’s breeches.  The touch and the friction feel good.  “It seems I’m not the only one enjoying this.” 

Shay has nothing to say in response.  Even if he did all he can do is gasp as the hand on his throat moves higher to his jaw, twisting his face to the side so the Redcoat can latch onto Shay’s neck.  The hand on his bulge makes quick work of the laces on his breeches.  Within seconds Shay is moaning at the duel feeling of fingers wrapping around his member and teeth biting his neck.

“Haytham!”

The tension, the mood, breaks as Haytham removes his mouth from Shay’s neck, sitting up to take some of the pressure off Shay’s bound arms.  The hands stay where they are.

“I thought you weren’t going to use my name.”  Haytham says with a smug grin.

“I didn’t plan too.”  Shay says, moving his head to look straight at Haytham.  “Perhaps we can try again?” 

“Now why would we do that,” Haytham asks, voice going dark again as he moved his hand so his thumb rested against Shay’s bottom lip, slowly pushing in, “when I have you right where I want you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by art from Genal-Lenix


End file.
